Calypso
by Giada Luna
Summary: Gravely wounded and desperate to escape Orochimaru, Sasuke summons the shadows and bids them to take him to sanctuary. There, in the garden just at the edge of the moonlight, he is met with a mortal whose eyes find him when the rest of the world cannot. Originally a miniseries in my Golden Ratio collection, now promoted to a full story.
1. Chapter 1: Sanctuary

_High-Fantasy in a modern AU. Started as a series in my Golden Ratio Colletion._

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 **Calypso**  
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1\. Sanctuary**

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Sasuke could feel the poison swirling through his veins, as tangibly as he felt the pain radiating from the deep gash in his side, and the puncture wound at his neck. With the maniacal laughter still ringing in his ears, he summoned the shadows and bid them take him to sanctuary, as far from the Serpent's Lair as possible. They delivered him to the tapering end of a thick grove of trees bordering a lush garden, just at the edge of the moonlight. The gleaming, wide leaves caught his eye, and he stumbled into the moonlight, wrenching a handful of vegetation and pressing it to his side with a hiss of pain. He collapsed onto the worn, stone bench, overcome with dizziness, and the first tastes of despair.

No one could possibly know where he was – he didn't even know where he was - so there would be no help coming. If he could not stave off the poison here and now, he would be dead before the moonlight faded from the sky.

There was a creak of an old and wooden door, and artificial light spilled into the garden.

"Hello?"

He looked up sharply to find a woman framed in the doorway, scanning the garden. He was too injured to will himself into invisibility, so he stayed absolutely still and hoped enough shadow clung to him as to mask his presence. She closed the door and walked down the three or four sagging steps to the garden, and called out again.

"Is anyone there?"

Her eyes alighted upon him with a small gasp of surprise.

"You can't see me," he harshed out. "Go back in the house."

Inconceivably, she disobeyed, a frown marring her face as she hurried over, and dropped to his side, kneeling in the cool of the grass.

"You're hurt," she whispered, and he blamed his injury for weakening his ability to coerce her.

"I'm not here," he tried again, and batted her hand away when she would reach for the leaves clasped against himself. "Stupid mortal – this will burn you."

"Perhaps if it was hogsweed," she agreed, a tilt of amusement on her lips. "But that is cow parsnip."

"Cow parsnip," his wry disgust was a short, sharp bark. "Just my luck."

His sharp eyes caught the familiar glint of red at the edge of her sleeve, and the hand not clutching his side shot out to grab her arm. He ignored her strangled gasp as he pulled her wrist (and her) closer for inspection. There were several bangles there, but he was interested only in the woven bracelet (hemp, perhaps) and the five brilliant red seeds in its center. He thumbed over them, making sure that the tell-tale black spot capped the end of each one, as satisfaction twisted his lips upward.

"Jequirity," he breathed. "Perhaps my luck is not so awful after all."

With no warning, he pulled her wrist to his mouth, and slid his tongue along her pulse and under the fiber of her woven bracelet. He drew the deadly beads into his mouth and cracked them with ease, prying them off of the bracelet and swallowing them whole.

The relief was almost instantaneous, and leaned back against the bench with a groan, staring up at the moon and watching as the faded edges of his peripheral vision became to come back into focus.

The woman snatched back her hand.

Despite everything, a dark chuckle resonated in his chest.

"Don't worry, Little Rabbit. You're safe from me for now." He let his head loll to the side so he could study her. The fringe of dark hair on her bowed head hid her eyes from him, but he could hardly fault her for being in shock. How could she know that the seeds someone had woven into an ornamental bracelet were deadly to mortals, but healing to his kind?

A cooling relief began to weave through the wound at his side, and he glanced down to inspect it.

That was when he noticed the woman's hands cupped over his wound, her lips moving in silent incantation while moon-pale light flowed from her fingers and into his side. Stunned, he watched even as he felt the cool silver of the light slide over his skin, and knit it back together. Before he could protest, the light faded from her hands, and she sat back on her heels with a small release of breath.

"There," her voice was whisper soft, yet he heard her. "That will do for now. We really need to get you inside to tend to the rest of it."

He blinked at her, wondering if she realized that some things should never be invited into your home. The eyes that met his were impossibly pale, and luminous in the moonlight. He swore that the veins around them had been bulging a fraction of a second ago, but dismissed it as a trick of the poison.

There was something otherworldly about her, and he was no longer convinced he'd stumbled into the garden of a mortal.

"You are far too weak to travel right now; you need to rest at least until morning."

"No," he said flatly. "I will leave before dawn."

"Seems unnecessary," she shrugged. "Not to mention ill-advised."

"You wouldn't say that if you had seen what was chasing me," he grimaced. "And don't fool yourself into thinking you are safe. Any being trying to aid me will be marked for death. They won't be distracted by the finer points of cow parsnip versus hogsweed."

"I can imagine," the corner of her lips twitched up in amusement. "Come inside and stay the night. You will be safe until morning.

"You're fool enough to invite a stranger into your home?" he arched an eyebrow out her. "What…" he started, and then thought better of it. "Who are you?"

"No one of importance."

"You weave moonlight," he accused. "You treated my wounds, which means you know what I am - and yet you still _invited_ me into your home. You are either a mage, or a grave fool."

For a split second, he saw the ghosts slide across her face before she tucked them away in the polite mask of her smile.

"I don't know what you are talking about, Sasuke," her quiet voice was gentle and sonorous, and fell thick on his ears, captivating his attention even as he felt his consciuosness and will slipping away. "I'm just the village spinster who lives at the end of the lane. Sometimes wounded animals wander into my garden, and I help them until they are well enough to leave." He heard rather than saw her shrug. "Nothing more."

The use of his name made him at once comorted and gravely unsettled. Names meant power, and he had not granted her the right to use his, and he could not fathom how it came to fall from her lips.

"A name for a name," he demanded, struggling to fight against the warmth and comfort and honey coaxing him to sleep.

"It doesn't work like that," her voice was more distant - softer, even - yet he heard it in his marrow and sinew and bone. "Not here."

"Please." It was little more than a whisper, and if he'd been more alert, the desperation and lonlieness would have made him wince. She knew his name without him revealing it; to take such a thing would be a powerful advantage. "A name."

There was gentle pressure on his forehead, like the press of a mother's kiss.

A fraction before he succumbed, he heard something gentler than the unfurling of the Moonflowers climbing the garden wall.

"Hinata."

"Hinata," he breathed, and then the world went dark, and he slipped into a space between heartbeats where dreams and darkness could not enter.

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 _Wishing you the best! - GL_


	2. Chapter 2: In the Morning

_High-Fantasy in a modern AU._

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 **Calypso**  
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2\. In The Morning**

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While Sasuke's missions often forced him to skirt the diaphanous edge between his world and the mortal realm, he had very few dealings with the inhabitants. Should he encounter a mortal, he altered their memory for their protection. Animals could often sense his kind, or at least his power, but but largely ignored or avoided him. (Cats were the exception, but they were known to cross between realms, so Sasuke didn't count those among the mortal creatures.)

Until that very moment, (and aside from an admitted fondness for cats) Sasuke's lack of interaction led to his having rather few opinions re: the inhabitants of the mortal world.

That was before he discovered a deep and unabated hatred for roosters.

Perhaps it was unfair to condemn an entire species on the crimes of a single representative, but the infernal beast had announced the morning's arrival no less than six times in the last hour.

The seventh time it began its reveille, he snapped his eyes opened, determined to incinerate the creature on sight. It took a moment to realize his vision was clouded, and not simply by the anger roiling under his skin. It was several heartbeats before the weathered, exposed beams of the ceiling came into focus – the only sharp lines against a muted palate of off-white plaster.

For a moment, everything was suspended; he could neither move nor feel his body. His hearing sharpened, but there was little more to detect than the rustle of curtains in a gentle breeze. There was nothing telling to hint at his location; no tang of salt or weight of heat or clammor of a busy city. All in all, it seemed he had awoken somewhere perfectly ordinary and quiet.

And that was an unsettling thought; for Sasuke wasn't one to frequent ordinary places.

His body was pleasantly heavy, and comfortable, and he just managed to turn his head on the thick, fluffed pillows (encased in simple cotton, not the fine linens of his home) to stare at the old double-belled brass alarm clock with laughable incredulity.

It was all so perfectly mundane, that it had to be a trick.

"Ah," a gentle voice floated toward him. "You are finally awake."

He dragged his eyes toward the approaching woman, wondering if he had any voice.

"Finally?"

"Yes," she placed a tray on a stand by his bed. "You've been unconscious for a week or so. Do you think you can sit up? I need to check your dressings."

Sasuke had no idea if he could sit or not, but he certainly wasn't going to admit such a thing. There was a gentle touch at his shoulder, and he moved automatically, as if it were a learned response, not an awkward reaction.

The shirt around his shoulders was not his own – he saw that now – and he managed to fumble the several large buttons open without her help. She quietly took the shirt and draped it over the arm of a chair before returning to see to his wounds. The padding closest to the wound was pinker than white, but she still looked pleased.

"I think the majority of the poison is gone," she ventured, pulling a small, squat jar of salve from the nightstand drawer. "Still, better safe than sorry." She quickly dressed and rewrapped the wound with the efficiency of experience, but the gentleness of compassion. His shirt was replaced with an identical one in a slightly paler shade of blue.

She arranged the pillows behind him and helped him to lie back before asking "Do you think you could eat something?"

A smirk tugged at his lips and his eyes fell to the slim curve of her wrist.

She followed his gaze, and pink dusted the tops of her cheeks as she cleared her throat.

"I was thinking something more along the lines of soup and tea."

"Hn."

She temporarily avoided meeting his gaze, busying herself with placing the legs of the wooden breakfast tray on either side of him before transferring the food she'd carried up. He watched her carefully, noting everything from the pale lavender headscarf tying her hair back to the drifting scent of sun and earth and blossom on her skin. He decided she had spent her morning in the garden, and absently wondered how she had spent her time while he was unconscious.

By the time she was pouring her tea, the blush had faded, and the gentle care of one tending a baby bird returned.

"I doubt you will be able to consume much at first," she ventured. "But you should start feeling more like yourself in the next day or two. You won't have the strength to stand for a little while yet."

"I heal quickly," he muttered, sniffing at the soup.

She hummed something politely neutral as he poked his spoon at the bowl of broth and thin noodles. He'd rather have something more substantial, but if he'd truly been unconscious for nearly a week, perhaps it was best to start slow.

She quietly filled a glass of water and added it to his tray as he took a few, hesitant bites of the soup.

"Not bad," he finally conceded. "At least, if you are trying to poison me, it isn't obvious." He leaned over and sniffed at the tea. "Lavender," he decided. "With perhaps a touch of hemlock?"

"Nightshade," she corrected.

"So," the corners of his mouth quirked up. "It is to be poison after all."

"It has to be," her smile was polite. "If we are to get you well."

"Ah," he leaned back against the pillows and studied her. "So you are aware of how to tend to our kind."

"Yes," she said softly, her fingers absently curling in the edges of her apron. "I am aware."

"How?"

"Let's just say the instructions came with the garden." He watched as she gathered up her bucket with his discarded bandages, and draped the shirt she'd replaced over her arm. "I will be back for the tray," she said, her hand on the doorknob.

"And if I have need of you before then?"

She opened the door and looked down.

"There you are," she smiled. "Will you see to our guest?"

Sasuke watched as a cat glided into the room, stopping first to circle and rub against her legs before sitting at her feet and looking at Sasuke.

"This is Hex," Hinata smiled fondly at the cat. "She'll come get me if you need me; she always knows where I am." She bent and scratched the cat behind her ears and murmured something kind and too low for Sasuke to catch, and in another breath, closed the door behind her. Sasuke's eyes lingered on the door for a moment before trailing back to the cat.

"Hex, is it?"

The cat met his gaze unblinkingly.

"Mm," he nodded and reached for his tea. "I see."

He drained the cup (which stayed warm and full until he had his fill – as did the bowl of soup) until he grew fatigued.

"Don't trouble her about the tray," he said, his eyes growing heavy, managing just enough magic to displace the tray to sit on the table near the bed. It was a small gesture, but he felt he owed her some consideration for saving his life.

"The Little Rabbit makes a good up of tea," he mused, eyes growing heavy.

"Wait until you try her baking."

Sasuke hummed his agreement, too tired to wonder who had spoken, and the room was soon filled with his quiet breathing and Hex's contented purr.

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 _Thank you for reading, friends! GL_


	3. Chapter 3: Recover

_High-Fantasy in a modern AU._

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 **Calypso**  
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3\. Recover**

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It had been many years since Sasuke slept without dreaming, and many more still than his first, shallow breaths of the day weren't of air thick with malevolent magics too powerful – too intoxicating – to breathe deeply. He was not jolted awake, nor did he rise with the automation born of discipline; rather, he drifted to wakefulness as a child does secure in his own bed, assured by the promises of those he loves that there is nothing to fear. He blinked lazily in the filtered sunlight, absently wondering if he was still dreaming.

And then that godforsaken rooster crowed.

The pleasant afterglow of sleep dispelled faster than a poorly set illusion, and he became aware of two things. One: there was strong argument that roosters were actually evil incarnate. Two: he was hungry. His appetite had only just returned in the last day or so, so there was a novelty to the sensation. If Hinata stayed true to schedule (and she always did) she would arrive shortly, bringing breakfast with her.

Mischief lingered in the curve of his lips as he sat on the side of the bed while sinking his bare feet into the depths of an impossibly soft rug. He reached for the warm robe hanging on the bed post – the one she'd draped across his shoulders when he'd been chilled two nights ago – and put it over and yet another set of cotton pajamas in another subtle shade of blue.

He would ask where she got the clothes she'd been lending him, had he not been so certain they belonged more to the house than to her. It was quite puzzling, really; Sasuke could detect no detail of a previous owner, and yet everything he'd been given hadn't had the stiffness of new things. It was as if everything here had been intentionally weathered to the point of offering comfort to others, without ever having had been worn at all.

With a breath and sheer determination, he stood - one hand on the heavy bedpost as he tested his ability to bear his own weight.

"Still stiff," he allowed, "but better."

Sasuke supposed he was doing rather well for someone who had come very close to dying, and had spent six days unconscious, and several more in bed while Hinata drained the remainder of the poison from him. It would take some time for everything to return to normal, but as he had always been exceptional, his abilities in recovery were still well above average.

There was no sound as he stepped from the rug onto the wood floors. Sasuke moved with the subtlety of a shadow – a skill that had saved his life more than once. Here, though, silence was incongruous. Never had Sasuke felt as conspicuous as he did at that moment, moving in between the sounds and pleasant air of the house. Everything here was love-worn and gently sloped; he was steel-cold and obsidian-sharp.

Sasuke was quite certain he did not belong here.

Something flicked across his ankle and padded by, but he'd grown used to Hex's presence by now. The cat beat him to the bottom of the stairs and sat on her haunches, looking up at him.

Sasuke arched an eyebrow at the cat.

"Where is she?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

She blinked her eyes in that off-beat-right-then-left way that cats do when asked a question they feel no need to answer. That told Sasuke she was in only one of two places: her garden or her kitchen, and as he had been expecting her with breakfast…

"How do I get to the kitchen?"

Hex gave a satisfied bob of her head and padded away. Sasuke followed, only just registering the sound of humming. There was the rapid sound of a knife on a cutting board followed by a splash as a handful of something was tossed into a pot. Hex was waiting for him at the door and hurried to Hinata's side as she pulled another root to slice.

"Good morning," Hinata smiled as the cat jumped up on to a tall, cushioned stool that Sasuke had no doubt was for her use, specifically. There was a moment where the cat strained her neck forward until Hinata leaned and pressed her forehead to the cat's. They had a silent conversation that Sasuke found himself inadvertently leaning forward to hear.

"Oh?" she asked, before turning to face where he was standing. "So, he is," her smile was kind. "Hex was just telling me that you were feeling well enough to explore. I can bring your breakfast through to the dining room, if you give me a moment."

Sasuke glanced through the archway to the formal table set with crisp linens and crystal shakers.

"It hardly seems the time to stand on formalities," he said dryly, tugging at the front of his borrowed robe as he looked around the kitchen. His eyes landed on the small, rough-hewn table and the mug of tea still steaming next to a folded newspaper.

Hinata followed his gaze, and the tops of her cheeks dusted pink.

"You are welcome to sit there, if you prefer."

Sasuke gave a single nod, and took the seat opposite hers, as she hurried to pour his tea.

"I can have your breakfast ready in just a moment," she placed the tea in front of him, but paused when he caught her gaze.

"Finish with your work first," he flicked a glance to the large stockpot on the stove, and abandoned cutting board. "I am content with a cup of tea."

"I am nearly done," she assured him, and turned back to her work. "Did you sleep well?"

"Well enough," he wrapped his fingers around the ceramic mug. "I bet a bit of rooster would liven up that soup."

Hinata tossed him a half smile over her shoulder; she knew how he felt about that bird, and he knew she'd do nothing of the sort. For whatever reason the irritating creature was dear to the Little Rabbit, and therefore under her protection.

He settled for sipping at his tea, letting its warmth slide down his throat and spread throughout his chest.

Whatever he could say about his situation, he had to admit that Hinata made an unparalleled cup of tea. Whether it was one of her blends, or just something he suspected was from a mortal shop somewhere in her small village, whenever she handed him a cup, the contents were outstanding.

His current selection was no exception; an oolong base with a few hints of things brewed that were not for mortal consumption. Absently, his eyes traced to her wrist where he spotted bright red of jequirity. The memory of that same wrist against his lips and tongue as his over-heightened senses filled with her was sudden and sharp. He had been drunk on her scent – something he was certain was now ingrained in his permanent recall.

He took a slow, purposeful drink of the tea and inhaled its fragrance, forcing is senses to return to the present. When he was assured that the delicate scent of her was being detected in real time, he turned his attention back to the sound of her friendly hum. She was washing the knife and cutting board as Hex stared back at him, her tail twitching lazily.

It was a heartbeat before he realized she was speaking to him.

"I think you have progressed to where you can handle something more substantial for breakfast," she ventured. "Is there something you'd like?" At his arched eyebrow, she added, "Other than rooster?"

Sasuke gave a feigned snort of displeasure. "Whatever you have on hand is fine."

"Mm," she sized him up with a look as she pressed her hands into a towel to dry them. Coming to some conclusion, she nodded her head and set to work. He hadn't noticed the smaller pots on the stovetop, but she was soon stirring them, and adding a frying pan to the free burner. For a horrifying moment, he thought of the breakfasts commonly served in this part of the world (or at least in the part of the world where he suspected he had arrived) but his fears were soon assuaged. The smells in the kitchen shifted, and suddenly there were new memories in the air.

His mother humming while she cooked the soup.

The precise, methodical way in which his father ate that had convinced Sasuke was the only proper way to consume a meal.

His brother's kind smiles and light teasing, and gentle encouragement, and shoulders burdened with secrets.

Hinata quietly brought the tray to the table and placed it in front of him, along with utensils he was certain were not from this part of the world.

There was one notable exception from the traditional dishes of salmon and miso soup and rice and various sides.

"No natto…"

"I thought it might not be to your taste," she hesitated, "but if you would care for some-"

"No," he interrupted softly. "It is not missed."

"Good," she smiled her relief. "I'll warm your tea."

Something warm and strange settled over him, as he watched the natural way she refilled his cup and encouraged with gentle smiles and gestures.

He was silent for a moment before he allowed himself to speak the words so long unused.

"Itadakimasu."

It hung between them – half of a ritual from another time and place he instinctively knew she had been raised to honor.

"Douzo meshiagare," she replied quietly, and Sasuke felt weight drop from his soul.

He had not been back to his homeland in quite some time, and had no doubt that it was any less than a hemisphere away… but in that instant, he had felt closer to home than he had in longer than he cared to admit.

And that was, perhaps, both the simplest and greatest kindness she had yet to pay him.

He was in her debt.

Sasuke hated to be in debt.

Moreover, he was in debt to someone he was fairly certain had all of her needs met by an enchanted house and garden - that didn't leave much room for repayment.

His eyes skated over her profile, and it struck him, then, that there was a lingering sadness about her.

And it came to him suddenly:

" _The Little Rabbit is lonely."_

That resonated with him, although he would never admit it.

Instead, Sasuke swallowed his misgivings with a chaser of resolve. He'd simply have to stay until he knew why she lived among mortals, as their local stray-tending spinster. Perhaps, then, he could suss out a way to repay her kindness.

" _And enjoy her tea,_ " he hid his smile behind his teacup, and allowed himself to enjoy the first hints of drowsiness that follow a good meal and a warm drink.

He soon heeded her advice to retire to bed, but decided he would begin spending more time belowstairs.

He'd have to, if he didn't want her to be lonely...and if it kept him from feeling lonely as well...well. Then that was not such a bad thing.

" _Tomorrow_ ," he thought. " _Tomorrow we shall see what we can learn about the Little Rabbit._ "

Sasuke fell asleep with a satisfied grin on his lips, and a contented cat on his bed.

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 _And there is the 3rd installment! More to come!_


	4. Chapter 4: Recluse

_High-Fantasy in a modern AU._

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 **Calypso**  
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4\. Recluse**

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Sasuke's recovery progressed, and he spent less time abovestairs, and more time with Hinata. While his kind preferred the night, he suffered no ill-effects of sunlight, and she had insisted that fresh air and sunshine would hasten his recovery. So, Sasuke joined Hinata in her garden, sometimes sitting in the shade of a manchineel tree (and lazily chewing one of the apples), or meditating while the wind spun the perfume of the garden around him.

The garden closer to the front gates – the one the mortals could see – contained more traditional herbs and plants and trees. The main garden, however, contained plants with life forces too great for mortals. They burned their skin and stopped their hearts and brought death, where to Sasuke's kind, it coaxed health and encouraged recovery.

Hinata cared for all of the plants with equal care, and dutifully harvested and dried and pressed specimens, turning some into pastes and tinctures, and others into meals or teas.

One morning Sasuke found her in the small work building in the garden, carefully wrapping up several parcels while she hummed to herself. She added them to the handled basket and gave a satisfied nod before informing him that she would return shortly, and Hex would be able to help him if he needed anything.

"Return?" he watched as she put the basket on her arm. "From where?"

"The village," was all she offered before taking the path through the garden.

Sasuke remained agitated until his sharp hearing picked up the sound of well-oiled hinges announcing her return. He nodded to Hex, who soon returned with Hinata in tow, her basket empty of her parcels, and filled with new ones. He poured her a cup of tea as she sat down.

"Shopping?" he nodded to the basket.

"Just a few essentials," she shrugged.

"And what do you think of the mortal market in this village… what is it called?"

"Greenleaf," she accepted the tea gratefully. "It is small and quaint."

"And do the mortals know they have an immortal neighbor?"

"I am no more immortal than you."

"But you are not mortal," he pointed out. "How have your neighbors not accused you of witchcraft?"

He thought she would wave off his question, but she did not laugh as he thought she might. Instead she studied her tea, choosing her words with care.

"Illusions are tricky magic," she said slowly. "The best ones are rooted in truth, and it is a universal truth that all villages have a spinster. She is woven into the fabric of the village as just one more detail as mundane as the creak of the library steps, and as steady as the chimes of the town clock. After a while, it is so consistent, the villagers fail to realize I am the only thing not changing about the village – that the woman with the garden their grandparents knew as children is the one their own children know."

"So why go out at all?" he asked, his eyes searching her face. "You have not spoken of friendships within the village – why be a part of it at all?"

"There are always those in need," she shrugged before meeting his eyes. "This Garden is tied to the mortal plane as well as ours – I cannot ignore those whom I could help."

"So I've learned," the corner of his mouth twitched upward. "But it appears they are not manifesting in your garden with death close on their heels."

"No," she allowed. "Their needs are simple and few. A remedy here and there, a good luck charm, a sympathetic ear…" she shrugged. "Simple magics."

He studied the Little Rabbit and something struck him.

"You may only go to the village when beckoned."

Her frown was small between her brows. "I can go if I have need."

"But not without reason," he pressed. "You cannot go and make friends… you may only observe."

She winced but covered it quickly.

"I have all that I need here," she put her empty tea cup down and stood. "I had better begin dinner." With a polite nod, she left, leaving Sasuke to wonder more about her.

He had thought the enchantment surrounding the house to be for her protection…but it was as much a prison as it was a refuge.

"Banished," the word fell from his lips, heavy and final in his astonishment. "She is in exile."

And suddenly Sasuke knew that the Little Rabbit needed his help more than he could have ever guessed.

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 _I switched this from a mini-series to a story, because I realized I had more to write. Hope you enjoy this one! - GL_


	5. Chapter 5: Stray

_High-Fantasy in a modern AU._

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 **Calypso**  
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5\. Stray**

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For all of his curiosity and intentions of helping the Little Rabbit, Sasuke had no idea how to go about it. Normally when he wanted information, he would use his own powers to go wherever he thought answers were to be had, and secure them. Unfortunately, whether he admitted it or not, his recovery was still very much in progress.

"Be careful not to over-do it," her warning floated to him from under her wide-brimmed gardening hat. "It takes time for magic to flow freely after a severe injury."

He practiced in a nearby alcove of the garden, where a massive tree provided gradients of deep shade over a weathered bench. When he had first started, he could only dip his fingertips into the shadows. Now, he could reach in as far as his elbow, but could do little more than spread his fingers into the void beyond before he had to draw them back, tingling with a curious cold.

"Does it hurt?"

He looked up to find her frowning down at his hand, a basket of lavender on her arm.

"Not really," he flexed his fingers. "It just takes some getting used to."

"Hm," she hummed, considering him a moment before sitting on the other side of the bench, her basket deposited on the springy, shade-hardy grass at their feet. "How does it feel?"

"Cold, mostly,"

He stared at her open hand for a moment before holding out his own. She hovered her hands around his, and he felt more than saw the light she poured into him. After a moment she gently turned his arm palm-up, and traced lines on his forearm, concentrating on some subcutaneous map only she could follow.

As she worked, the warmth returns to his fingertips, and spread to his chest. Before it could reach his face, she finished, and looked up.

"There," her smile was gentle. "Try to move it."

He flexed his hand. "Better."

"Good," she smiled, and stood, gathering her basket. "I'll leave you to work in peace."

With that, she went to another plot of life needing her attention, and he was left to dip into the shadows.

Although her warmth stayed with him, he could not extend into the shadow enough to do what he had hoped.

He still couldn't send a message.

He had decided he needed to at least let his brother know that he was safe, and hoped to solicit his help, but then again he did not wish to risk bringing anyone looking for him to Hinata's door.

He therefore settled on trying to figure out more about Hinata to learn how she had come to be bound to this place.

"Tell me more about the village," he asked one morning over their first cup of tea.

"It is a small, quiet place," she said, wrapping her fingers around her teacup. "Greenleaf has always been a sort of hidden gem."

"I'm amazed that it hasn't been industrialized with the rest of the area."

"They tell me," she drummed her nails on the ceramic, "that the geography here doesn't lend itself to development, so all of the modernizing happened a few cities over. Many of the villagers commute for work."

"And I suppose having a very large enchanted garden and forest has nothing to do with the geographical difficulties?"

"I imagine it contributes," she smiled into her tea, but offered no further comment.

"The magic is old here," he looked out of the window and into the garden. "Far older than you or I, and its roots run deep. I imagine there are many things that contribute to the village remaining largely untouched by time. My concern, however," he turned to meet her eyes, "is if the magic is enough to prevent those pursing me from finding your door.

Hinata remained silent and Sasuke turned to meet her eyes.

It was several heart beats before hers drifted up to meet his.

"No one can find this place, if they intend ill will."

"And is that why you tended to me?" he asked, his voice a hush in the early morning. "Because I was permitted to enter?"

"I tend any who come into my care," she answered, and there was a note of something in her voice that spoke of stories never told that only ever ended in departure. "I knew you could not hurt me."

"Could not?" his eye locked into her own. "Or would not."

"Would not," she said, a small smile on her lips. "Moreso than could not."

"Hm," he murmured, and sipped his tea. He had so many things he wanted to ask her – so many questions about where they were and who she was, but he settled for saying "The garden is lucky to have found such an accomplished caretaker."

Her laugh was a puff of air over the wisps of steam – relief tinged with incredulity.

They were companionably silent until the kettle was drained, and she quietly gathered the cups. She finished drying the tea things, a flicker of a smile on her lips as she watched the garden out of her window.

"Keep your eyes on the west wall," she offered, never looking away from the world beyond the sloping glass. "Many of my strays wander in through there."

With that, she gave a small smile, and left the kitchen.

Sasuke watched her go, his confusion etched between his brows.

He stood where she had stood, peering through the glass to shadow and tangle and life of the garden beyond. "The west wall," he murmured, eyes tracing the distant stone line where he had indeed been discovered. Him and how many others? Were there traces of other guests in this home that might give him a clue as to how long she had been there? How she had gotten there? How he could help her?

He was in the same quandry three days later, when Hinata had once again gone to the village with assurances she would return before lunch.

"Mrrow?"

He was at the table drinking tea when Hex began circling his leg.

"Something to tell me?" he asked with half a smile as the cat blinked up at him. He had meant it as nothing more than a joke, but Hex butted her head against his fingertips a few times before nipping at them and leaning heavily against his leg.

"Mrrow!"

She met his eyes and sat staring up at him while her tail twitched impatiently.

"You want me to move?"

She began to trot off, checking over her shoulder to see if he followed which, curious, but not one to discount the wisdom of cats, he did.

It took him a moment to realize where she was headed, and several more to find what held her focus in the massive tree overhead.

The commotion in the leaves manifested in a flutter of shining midnight feathers, that landed on the west wall.

Sasuke stared at the bird for a moment, sliding a glance at Hex to see if it was in danger.

She was disinterestedly licking her paw and swatting at her ear, so he turned back to the bird.

Its beady black eyes bore into his as its head twitched side to side, inquisitively.

Sasuke did not allow himself to entertain the hope in his chest – not at first – but when Hex batted at the fabric of his trousers, he finally offered. "Are you Brother's messenger?"

The Raven hopped onto his outstretched arm, and Sasuke saw the paper tied to its leg. He moved carefully, but the bird was still as he took the parchment and unrolled it. As Sasuke read the note, the bird flitted away, leaving him a moment to right his world.

The message was simple, cryptic, and short.

 _"Send the star, and I shall come to you."_

"The star?" Sasuke frowned, confused. "What star?"

The raven croaked and then perched on his shoulder, dropping a small, white flower into his hand. Sasuke stared at it a moment, marveling at it's perfect shape. He began to eagerly roll up the note, but he paused.

He looked down to Hex.

"What about Hinata?"

The cat paused in its ablutions, and stared up at him.

It stretched one velvet paw to his leg and shoved him forward, with a bob of its head.

"If you say so," Sasuke breathed, folded the flower into the paper, and retied it to the raven's leg.

It chattered merrily, and hopped back onto the west wall before disappearing into the azure sky.

Sasuke watched until he could see the bird no longer, and turned back to Hex.

"Will she be angry?"

The cat rubbed at his legs until he scooped it up and sat on the bench nearest the west wall.

"If there is danger," he murmured, scratching the cat's ears as it curled into the sunshine on his lap. "Then I shall protect her."

The cat's purrs soon rumbled against his legs, and he supposed he must have fallen asleep, for the next thing he knew Hinata had returned from the village.

"Sasuke?" her voice was gentle and nearby. "Are you ready for lunch?"

He blinked into he wink of midday sun filtering through the trees even as Hex stretched and jumped down from his lap.

In less than an instant, he remembered the raven, and turned to her quickly.

"Hinata – I have to tell you something."

But he paused, because although she listened, there was something melancholy about her, even as she did.

"Ah," her voice was gentle. "So you've had a visitor."

"More like a promise of one," he admitted, his stomach beginning to coil. "It was a raven – a messenger from my brother."

She saw his doubt and concern and waved it away.

"It's alright. Like I said before, Sasuke," she met his eyes. "The garden will not let anyone in with ill intentions. Now come," she motioned to the house. "Let's have some lunch."

He stood to follow, watching her move with a willow-grace, wondering what words he had not heard.

She was not outwardly sad or dispirited, but there was something different in the air between them - something like the inevitability of goodbye.

It rankled him, and his last thought before falling asleep was that he would not leave until he knew how and why she had been cursed, and how he could help. Her comments made it clear that others had come to her for aid, but unlike them, he would not abandon her.

He would see the end of her exile, and hold open the front gate as she left behind her banishment to take her place in the sun.


End file.
